


Need

by Shellah (trinaest)



Category: Everwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-21
Updated: 2003-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-14 13:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trinaest/pseuds/Shellah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Many thanks to researchminion for the helpful beta. I may not take every suggestion, but they all make me think! Also, as always, thanks to Celli for cheering me on even though she doesn't watch Everwood.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to researchminion for the helpful beta. I may not take every suggestion, but they all make me think! Also, as always, thanks to Celli for cheering me on even though she doesn't watch Everwood.

Colin's return—his return to Everwood, his return to school—took the small corner of my life that I had started to count on and turned it upside down. I dreaded seeing him at school, with Amy, and for a damn good reason. And, at first anyway, all of my fears were realized.

He displaced me, not that I'd actually found a place in this town, with these people. But I did feel that I had a place with Amy, even while she was still emotionally tied to Colin. His homecoming meant that I had no place in Amy's life anymore—when Colin came back, there would be no room for Ephram Brown, substitute friend, if not substitute boyfriend. That...well, that hurt, no matter how much I thought I was prepared for it.

But now, Colin is turning my world upside down again. And, as strange as it seems to me, I think I understand him. Everyone else here—everyone, even people who weren't friends with him before the accident, but knew who he was, thought they knew him—everyone has expectations of Colin. Except me. I knew some things about him, of course. How could I spend as much time with Amy as I have without learning about him? But I'm the only person who didn't know him before the accident. I'm the only one who sees and talks to the Colin standing right there, rather than the Colin who exists only in memory.

With so many people waiting for him, I didn't expect Colin to need me. And he needs me in a way no one else in this town does. He needs a friend who will let him be whoever he is now. And that's why I now find myself on a weekend ski trip with a bunch of kids who...well, I guess they don't hate me. But they definitely don't like me, either. I'm still not sure why I agreed to come. I don't ski. It seemed so important to Colin, though, that I just couldn't say no. Oh yeah, and Amy didn't want me to come. That was part of it, too.

So here I am. Here we are. Colin and I are sharing a room. He's in the bathroom right now, but the door is open just a crack and I can hear him. He's muttering to himself and he sounds frustrated. I approach the door and knock gently, swinging it open enough to peer inside if he'll let me.

Colin responds to my knock with a startled, "What?"

"Can I come in?"

"Um, okay," he says warily.

When I poke my head through the door, he's looking in the mirror, watching me. "I just need to brush my teeth."

"Oh, okay," and with that he looks down at the toothbrush in his left hand, the toothpaste tube lying haphazardly next to the sink, and moves to the side to give me some room.

I go to the sink, pick up my toothbrush, put toothpaste on it, and start brushing my teeth. When I glance up at the mirror, I can see Colin still standing there, watching me. Only now, instead of the wary look he gave me when I opened the door, he just looks sad. I stop and look at his reflection. For a moment our gazes catch. Then he looks away with a sigh. His shoulders slump as if they're suddenly weighted down. I hurriedly finish brushing my teeth and turn to him. "Colin-"

"Don't," he interrupts me. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me. I get enough of that at home. They're always watching me, watching for any improvement in my 'condition.' My parents, Amy, Bright, even my sister. They're just-" He throws his toothbrush into the sink and turns away.

I reach out, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him back toward me. "Colin." He doesn't resist, and a glance into his eyes shows his unspoken pain. He quickly looks away. "Look. I don't feel 'sorry' for you. Do I ever treat you that way?"

"No, but-" He gestures toward the unused toothbrush in the sink. "I can't even brush my teeth." He finally looks into my eyes; his are brimming with tears that he won't shed.

I don't resist the impulse that compels me to brush the side of his face with my fingers, gently cupping his check with my palm. He blinks, but he doesn't flinch. Doesn't pull away. His eyes, so round and full of pain, just stare back into mine. "This isn't pity or a misguided sense of obligation. But I can help you, okay?"

He doesn't say anything, but nods slightly. I brush my thumb lightly over his cheekbone once before pulling my hand away, then I nod in return and turn back to the sink.

I quickly assess the problem—a small mess of toothpaste on the counter, but none on the brush—and squeeze some paste onto his toothbrush. When I turn back toward him, he reaches out with his left hand—his right arm is still in the sling—and awkwardly takes it from me. He looks at me with wide eyes, as if he isn't sure whether to trust that this can be so simple. But I think he knows. No expectations, just...support.

He finally steps toward the sink and begins brushing his teeth. It must be hard to learn to do things like that—like brushing your teeth with your left hand when you've been doing it with your right all your life. It looks like the crisis has passed, though, so I just give him a quick smile and leave the room.

I lie down and stare at the ceiling until Colin comes out of the bathroom. He doesn't say anything, just turns off the light on the way to his bed, so I turn over and get comfortable in the dark, quiet room. I can hear him breathing steadily, but I don't think he's asleep. I'm lying on my stomach, chin propped on my arms. I'm restless, thinking about recent events, and Amy...and Colin.

Colin exhales suddenly, as if he's been holding his breath. "Ephram?"

I turn my face toward him even though I can't really see him, "Yeah?"

"Thanks." He says it quietly, so simply. But I can hear what he isn't saying aloud. He does know. I can help him. I want to help him, not because I feel sorry for him but because I like him. I like *this* Colin, rather than a memory of him.

"You're welcome." I finally turn to my side, curling up to go to sleep, facing Colin. I think about the evening, Colin's acceptance of my support.

And I think I need him as much as he needs me.

(end)


End file.
